Missing posts and running between posts

The first 2 weeks of February went about without my writing any post. We had Dhruv’s grand parents visiting us from Delhi in the first week.

Those days were like whirlwinds with my running from post to post in the house. Everyday waking up at half past 6 without fail, making and serving the morning teas and starting the process of waking up Dhruv for school by quarter past 7 amidst the jarring sounds of Sanskaar and Aastha channels. Since on routine days, we are used to a quiet house in the morning with a ‘No TV’ rule, the TV switched on early in the morning created a sort of a revolution for Dhruv. He wanted to stay glued to it and so getting him ready for school entailed a mountain of a task with threatening calls, loud wails and overflowing tears bringing out the worse in both the parents and the child. How tough it gets to contain your calmness with the child wailing and the other adults continuously churning out suggestions to handle the chaos adding more fuel to it? I am no saint.

Dropping him at school was no easy task either. Dhruv screeched and howled and did not want to enter the school gate. His teacher nearly had to forcefully snatch him away from me which made me teary and heart broken. Returning home half-heartedly and getting busy with preparing the best of breakfast and lunch for everyone for the next 2 hours was like a roller coaster ride. Giving your best within the broad framework to please others and avoiding judgemental air waves gets very tiring. By the end of 2 hours, it again got time to pick Dhruv up from school. This remained the high point of the day with watching an ecstatic Dhruv running out of his class room upto me celebrating the end of his school day.

All the events that followed after getting home were no less draining. Getting him to bath, making him eat his lunch were no less than a battle. By the time it turned half past 2 in the afternoon, I would collapse in the bed not knowing for the next 1 and a half hours where had I been lying. On getting back to my senses and pulling together my bodily geography in sync, it got time to engage Dhruv with his homework so that the grandparents could also get some rest time. The only energetic organism in the house was Dhruv, never failing on his ability to create excitement for himself. Not going into the nitties and the gritties of the further schedule of the day, my next collapse would get timed at 10 in the night.

The above events multiplied by 5 (working days) with the maid gone missing on one of the days (imagine who won the job of cleaning the house crystal clear and washing the dishes) plus 2 days of weekend were the extent of my…….plight.

As if all this was not enough, watching Dhruv’s daddy getting pampered and spoilt with his mummy taking extra ‘care’ of him was a treat to watch. Boys indeed are the privileged ones with their mothers around, no matter if they are 4 or 40. Good for them, hard for their wives.

The following week found me recuperating from all the burn out and catching up with sleep and clearing my mind of all the feedbacks which came my way. Feedbacks are just great and with all of my 7 years of joint family experience, I am almost capable of picking up the constructive ones and not bothering about the other kinds.

And with the luxury of having a blogging space, I can rant and ramble about the things going on in my mind to make space for my next mom story.

Take your rantings to your maximum city page and it might be the case that you may also find and discover sympathizers and empathizers. You also might come across people who are in the same boat as you are in. And knowing you are not alone can give you a leap. Try it.

It is difficult to deal with this kind of a situation. I haven’t dealt with this because we never stayed in India for that long. And even then last year I had a difficult time managing my kid when we were at in laws. The story is alost same everywhere! I am glad to see you back here, Anamika. 🙂

Its not just about in-laws or both set of the child’s grandparents for that matter. Even when my brother came to visit us in Preston, Dhruv’s non co-operation movement was similar,. The only respite was that he had not started school then.
The blogging space is one place, Vinitha, where I can be just myself. I can’t leave this place now given the fact that writing is so therapeutic.